


Before the Shot

by nickelsandcoats



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelsandcoats/pseuds/nickelsandcoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's thoughts in ASiP just before John fires that shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Shot

**Author's Note:**

> The cabbie's dialogue comes straight from ASiP.

  
“Come on…play the game.”

 _There is no game, it’s chance. Walk away. You have nothing to prove to this simpleton._

But still, you pick up the bottle, feeling it warm in your palm as the cabbie says,

“Oh, interesting. So, what do you think? Shall we? Really, what do you think? Could you beat me? Clever enough to bet your life?”

 _It’s not a bet. It’s not. There were times in your life when you wanted everything to end, for the constant buzz in your head to go still and quiet as your world faded to black and you were finally, finally at peace. But now? Is that what you want? There’s a new puzzle now, one wrapped in a boring jumper. One whose limp you just cured. This doctor, this new flatmate, new potential friend, the first since university. Could you give him up? Would you give him up?_

“I’ll bet you get bored, don’t you? I know you do.”

The lid to the bottle opens easily under your hand. _No, you wouldn’t give him up. Even though you’ve known him for less than a day, there’s something compelling about John, something that you want to probe. You want to open him up and scrutinize him under your microscope, see what makes him tick, why he is a walking contradiction. He is a doctor and a soldier, healer and killer. You saw the outline of the gun under his jumper in the flat. With the way he ignores its weight against the small of his back, you know that he is used to carrying it._

“Man like you, so clever. But what’s the point of being clever if you can’t prove it?”

You hold the pill up to the light, stalling for a reason you don’t understand. _You have proven it, though. To John. John thinks you’re clever, John thinks you’re brilliant, and you were surprised to hear the word come out of his mouth. There is an odd connection between you two, one that draws you into him. You don’t understand the emotional cocktail that courses through your veins when you look at him. You want to hear his laugh again; when you heard it for the first time, you had to fight the new and pressing urge to pin him to the wall and kiss him until he all could taste, all he would ever taste again was you. You were shocked to feel shame and guilt when the look of realization flashed across his face at the revelation that you were a junkie. He was disappointed in you, and for the first time, you were disappointed in yourself._

“Still the addict. But this, this is what you’re really addicted to.”

 _You’re finding that you’re inexplicably becoming addicted to John. Less than twenty-four hours after meeting and you already feel bereft when he’s not standing beside you. You want to explore this newfound attachment. It thrills and exhilarates you even as it terrifies you. You have never been attached to anyone before. You think you want to be attached to John, but does he want to be attached to you? Will he want to be attached to you even after he learns who you are?_

“You’d do anything, anything at all, to stop being bored.”

 _But you’re not bored now. John, quiet, unassuming John who you barely know is fascinating. You think that boredom would be tolerable, or perhaps nonexistent, with him. Now, the problem is surviving long enough to explore your newfound feelings. Will you live long enough to discover the part of yourself you tamped down years ago? Will John be curious enough to follow? He can track the phone. But will he? Will he follow? You want him to have followed you. You want him to always follow you, and you always want to follow him. You're not ready to leave him, yet. You barely know him, but there is something deep in your gut that tells you that there is something more to explore between you. The potential for more, the want, the need for there to be more between you roars in your gut. The revelation shocks you, sets your fingers trembling as you lift the pill to your lips. Not much longer, now._

“Not bored now, are you? Isn’t it goo—”

The gunshot makes you drop the pill, vault over the table to peer out the window to see your saviour, but you know who fired that gun, and you smile.


End file.
